Christmas Presents
by miss.impossible
Summary: Skulduggery and Valkyrie exchanging gifts at the pier.


_The Skulduggery Pleasant Series (C) Derek Landy. _

_English is my second language, and it's been a while since I used it in any creative context. So feel free to point out any embarrassing mistakes! (Actually, you can point out any mistakes, they don't need to be embarrassing.) _

_**Spoilers for the books up 'til Death Bringer, but really, you wouldn't notice them unless you've already read the books. **_

**Christmas Presents**

The wind tore right through her clothes the moment she stepped out of the house and immediately made a mess out of her hair. Valkyrie simply raised a hand against the wind and the air around her stood still. Her teeth were still chattering from the cold, but she decided against summoning a flame until she couldn't be seen from her parent's house.

Normally she would have been wearing a Bespoke suit, but her favourite outfit was in the wash thanks to two renegade Necromancer apprentices who had tried to make their own zombie army.

Put short, the zombies escaped the very secret, very evil Necromancer lair in the basement one of the students lived in. His mother, a mortal woman who had no idea her only son was a rather poor magician dabbling in death-magic, was very upset to have dead people running around her garden, completely ruining her Christmas decorations. Eventually the Sanctuary's head detectives were called in to contain the situation.

Luckily the Necromancers had built in a self-destruct mechanism in the zombies. They'd thought that would be nice in case anything would go wrong.

When the Skeleton Detective finally managed to engage it, while the teens were running around trying not to get eaten by their own creations, they found that the self-destruct mechanism made the zombies explode. And when week-old corpses explode, it's best to keep your distance. However, no one had told Valkyrie that last bit, and when Skulduggery clicked the last of the symbols into place, she was busy keeping the zombie that straddled her from gnawing her brains out. It had taken three scorching hot showers to get all the rotting zombie goo out of her hair.

Except for that little incident, as Skulduggery had referred to it, it was one of their better cases. The only casualty was a neighbouring yappy dog that had tried to run up and say hello to the zombies. One hungry zombie got hold of it and widdle poodly-woodly's life ended with some very disturbing crunches.

As Valkyrie shivered she made a mental note of asking Bespoke to tailor her some new outfits. Now that she had turned eighteen - a day she hadn't really expected she would live to see, but look, here she was - her parents were no longer the legal guardians of the inheritance left behind by her uncle Gordon, and she was free to do whatever she wanted to with the not insignificant amount of money. Maybe another jacket, Valkyrie thought, summoning a flame in the palm of her hand to keep warm.

For Christmas Valkyrie still insisted on keeping the tradition of exchanging gifts at the pier. She hid a grin, feeling the tiny parcel in her pocket bump against her hip every other step.

Skulduggery Pleasant was waiting for her, leaning against his new car, a 1956 Cadillac Fleetwood hearse painted deep red and black. Despite the car matching her Bespoke uniform, the car was only slightly better than the Purple Menace and the Canary Car, in Val's opinion, no matter how much room they had in the back.

But it had to suffice. The Bentley had died a horrible death that had in fact been quite mundane. A man had simply bumped into it when he was trying to park next to it, and what Skulduggery's mechanic had said about the car not being able to withstand another bump, turned out to be true. The Bentley had, for lack of a better word, imploded. Skulduggery and Valkyrie were very surprised when they came running, hot on the trail of Billy-Ray Sanguine and the remnant, and found themselves without transportation.

There simply was no getting a replacement. Skulduggery had tried his best until he and the rest of the magical community had a much larger problem on hand. Having Darquesse on the loose had proved to be a bit of a distraction.

Valkyrie was tired. Alice had dragged her out of bed at four in the morning, barely thirty minutes after Valkyrie had come in and swapped places with the reflection. Luckily, Valkyrie had managed to convince the toddler to wait at least two hours until they woke their parents, and they had both been sound asleep when their parents woke _them _up at eight.

Despite the night's zombie mayhem, Valkyrie reasoned any morning she could spend unwrapping presents was worth getting up for.

Speaking of presents, Skulduggery had always given her the best presents while hers were somewhat subpar. But not this year. She had spent a long time tracking down the right parts - there had even been times she had caught herself thinking it had been easier to locate the Murder Skull.

Skulduggery hadn't moved while she moved down the ice-laid path. He tilted his head. "How did family stuff go at Fergus' house?"

Valkyrie grimaced and extinguished the flame. "It was alright."

Somehow her awful cousins had actually turned out to become honourable citizens, and Fergus had softened somewhat, seeing as his daughters were safe from magic. Beryl was as horrible as ever, but Valkyrie saw no point in breaking the tradition of avoiding her aunt as much as possible.

"You've been at Ghastly's?" Valkyrie asked.

Skulduggery nodded. After Darquesse, the Council was once again lacking a member, and Skulduggery had been nominated yet another time. Not one to break a good tradition, he was going to decline. Ghastly and Ravel weren't willing to let him go a third time. It was possible they only wanted to see him dressed up in the ridiculous robes the members had to wear.

"So where's my present?" Valkyrie demanded, not about to hand over her small parcel without getting anything in return.

"You're never getting over that, are you?"

"Hand it over."

The Skeleton Detective produced a gift bag. "You look like you could need it."

Valkyrie's fingers sank down in the soft package and she looked up at him. "You're supposed to wrap it."

"Now you don't have to tear the paper off."

"But that's the fun part!" Valkyrie protested.

"You're not risking paper cuts with a gift bag," Skulduggery said. "Blame Ghastly," he continued. "He didn't wrap it, and tape really sticks to bone."

Valkyrie remembered the first present she had gotten. It looked like someone had battled with it.

"You're meant to open it," Skulduggery added.

Valkyrie pulled out a long coat, a Bespoke creation of course, and admired it with a grin that could match the skeletal smile of her partner.

"It's gorgeous!"

"Of course it is." Skulduggery's inflated ego was not away for the holidays.

The soft, black fabric was warm in her hands. Skulduggery stilled the wind completely while Valkyrie put the coat on. It had a hood, she noted, great in case a bad guy decided to be sensible and fire at her head. And she was already warm and toasty, except for her face and her hands.

Skulduggery seemed content. After years of knowing him, Valkyrie was rather skilled at reading his expressionless cranium. By the time he realised her surprise, his grin would be wiped off his skull.

She reached into her other jacket and got out Skulduggery's present. "Here."

She had wrapped it in bright blue paper decorated with jolly snowmen and snowflakes. Skulduggery tore the paper off, mauling several snowmen in the process. None of them seemed to mind having vital body parts severed and kept their smiles on.

There was a box inside the paper. Skulduggery opened it and picked the gleaming objects up.

"Keys," he said. "How thoughtful."

"Now you're supposed to ask what they are for."

"I'm a detective," Skulduggery said. "And I detect that they are for unlocking something. That's what they are for."

Valkyrie chose not to argue. "Come on," she urged, and Skulduggery followed her up the same way she had come.

When they stopped outside her father's garage, Valkyrie had to keep herself from grinning too much. In view of the houses, Skulduggery had activated his face.

Valkyrie opened the garage and stepped back to see Skulduggery's reaction.

Inside stood a black 1954 Bentley R-Type Continental, one of only 208 made. And for once, Skulduggery was the one who didn't know what to say. His false face was blank.

"You have been awfully secretive lately," he said at last.

"I know."

Valkyrie grinned wide and walked into the garage. "Wanna take her for a ride?"

Skulduggery didn't need to be asked twice. He got in, put the seatbelt on and adjusted his seat a bit before he put the keys in the ignition. The new Bentley purred to life with a powerful yet gentle roar. Valkyrie buckled up automatically before she sank back in the comfy seat and sighed contentedly when they tore out of the garage. Just like in the old days.

It was two days until Skulduggery got around to picking up the other car he had left by the pier.


End file.
